Authors: Kate Metz
Stiletto Safari
Copyright © 2012 Kate Metz
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1467959049
ISBN 13: 9781467959049
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61916-593-9
To my three boys:
Richard, Charlie, and Benji.
Contents
T
oday was the worst day of my life. Of course, it didn’t start out that way, but by 11:30 a.m. my almost perfect world had ended. How do you know when your world is going to come crashing down? Well, in my case, there were no signs. For once, I managed to make it into the office before Clare, the office bitch (big achievement), and grab breakfast (minor miracle), but best of all, I was sporting a brand new snakeskin Bulgari handbag.
By 9:00 a.m. I was happily sitting in my office, sipping a caramel latte while the office secretaries cooed admiringly at my bag. Clare still hadn’t made it in, and the partner in charge had asked me to attend a
very important
meeting.
So there I was, perched in a boardroom full of lawyers and bankers talking about what could possibly be the biggest mergers and acquisitions deal of the year, when my Blackberry started ringing. Embarrassing! Junior lawyers are not meant to interrupt meetings, especially not important ones. Fumbling in my bag for a few seconds, I switched my Blackberry to silent. Disaster averted. The banker sitting opposite me gave me a sympathetic smile. Actually, he was pretty cute—definitely potential for one of my single girlfriends. Conspiratorially I smiled back and flicked my hair ever so slightly. No harm in a bit of innocent flirtation, even if I am officially off the market!
I went back to taking notes. I’m so good at taking notes now that I can think about other things at the same time, a useful form of multi-tasking. It’s funny how life works out. Five years ago, I would have confidently told you I’d be at a plaintiff law firm taking on big corporates for a dizzying array of wrongdoings. Yet here I am, working for big corporates instead. My lofty ideals vanished the moment I interviewed with some of the plaintiff firms and saw firsthand their dumpy offices and tired-looking staff.
Instead I wound up at Harvey & Rose, one of New York’s premier law firms. I was won over by the lure of a much higher salary, the opportunity to wear a killer wardrobe, and the promise of some interesting pro bono work—life is a balance, after all. But best of all, Sal, one of my very closest friends, was also offered a job and had the office a few doors up from mine.
The big problem with law, I mused, looking around the plush boardroom, is that the long hours really play havoc with your looks and lifestyle. I mean, half the partners look like they’re suffering from some life-threatening illness—puffy eyes, sallow skin, thinning hair—and most are on their third marriage.
Clearly, it made sense to find an alternate career in the next few years. But in the meantime, monthly facials and manicures would just have to suffice. I looked approvingly down at my freshly manicured hands. A little bit of maintenance goes a long way.
“Zara. Is Zara Hamilton in this meeting?”
My reverie was broken and I looked up to see Janice, the managing partner’s PA, standing in the doorway. Why was she calling my name in the middle of a meeting? For the second time that morning, all eyes were on me. Rather than looking outright annoyed this time, the chair of the meeting suddenly looked interested. He probably surmised the photocopier needed fixing! Most partners don’t think junior lawyers are good for much else.
Blushing, I excused myself. Janice, a stick-thin woman in her late forties, had already started back up the corridor. Tottering on my heels, I tried to catch up to find out what the hell was going on.
“Janice,” I finally managed to hiss as I caught up with her. “What’s going on? Why did you get me out of that meeting?”
Pausing for a second, Janice whispered, “Honestly, Zara, I don’t know the reason, but Ed has canceled all his morning meetings and is in his office with George. They’re both in foul moods.”
Shit, this must be bad, I thought. What could I have possibly done to warrant being dragged in front of the managing partner and the head of litigation? I’d barely ever exchanged words with either of them. In fact, I seriously doubted whether either of them even knew my name. My mind was furiously working. The only thing I could think of was lying on my timesheets. But who doesn’t do that? I mean, everyone knows that “client liaison” is “coffee” and “research” is “online shopping.”
“Come in,” Ed’s deep voice boomed from his office. Ed was a large, heavyset man in his early sixties. He always looked hassled, and this morning was no exception.
George was in the office too. I’d never liked George. Short, fat, and bald, he reminded me of the sleazebag lawyer in
Pretty Woman
.
“Take a seat, Zara.” Ed motioned to a trendily faded brown leather armchair. Seconds later I was sinking into the chesterfield in front of the two men.
“Zara, do you have anything you want to tell us?” George, the head of litigation, asked. His nasal voice had a nasty ring to it. He was known around the office as a real asshole.
“No,” I tried to answer in an even tone. “I’m not really sure why I’m here.”
“Are you sure?” George practically growled this time.
Tears started to well out of nowhere. I shook my head. “No, I really don’t know what this is all about. Have I done something wrong?”
“Calm down, Zara; you haven’t necessarily done anything wrong.” It was Ed this time. “We just want to talk to you about Nick.”
“Nick?” I said, suddenly alert. “What has Nick got to do with anything?”
Nick and I had been dating for nearly two years. He was every woman’s dream—tall, dark, handsome, funny, and yes, rich—but that’s not why I loved him. He was genuinely sweet, charming, interesting, and confidentially, good in bed.
“Nick has been arrested.”
I almost burst out laughing. “I’m really sorry, but I think you’ve got the wrong Nick.”
“No, Zara, we haven’t,” Ed went on, “Nick was arrested this morning along with several others for alleged insider trading.”
I could feel the color drain from my face. “But why would Nick insider trade? I mean, he’s highly successful, so he doesn’t need the money. Plus, his family is so well known and does so much to help others…” My faltering voice trailed off.
“We don’t know, Zara, but the allegations are very serious. Apparently his associates traded in a number of takeover targets days before bids were announced. We know, for example, that his associates bought DRB Finance shares the day before the East Circuit takeover bid was made.”
“But we acted for DRB,” I stammered.
“Yes, and that’s where our problem lies,” hissed George. “You see, the authorities want to know where Nick got that piece of information and so do we.”
“But how would I know?” And then the meaning of George’s words sunk in. “Are you implying that I told Nick about the bid and that I’m somehow involved? You have to know I would never do that. I mean, it’s completely unethical, not to mention illegal.”
Ed stepped in and said smoothly, “We’re not implying anything at this stage, Zara, but we need to take this seriously. Since we were contacted this morning, we have been fully cooperating with the authorities. We have given them access to your office, to your files, and to your laptop. Now if you would please hand me your Blackberry.”
In the last three and a half years, I’d never been without my Blackberry, not even for a second, and that was before Barack Obama made Blackberry addiction cool. I noticed as I passed it over that I had four missed calls.
“So what happens now?” I whispered. My head had started to throb and my mouth felt dry; I could barely get the words out.
“Well, we obviously can’t have you working here while this matter is being investigated. We need to conduct our own investigation, and of course the SEC is going to want to talk to you. Consider yourself on leave until further notice. Once our investigation is complete, we’ll let you know whether you have a future at Harvey & Rose.”
“Before you’re escorted out, we’ll need you to sign this.” George thrust a document at me.
Nervously I picked it up and started to read. A confidentiality agreement! I was being gagged from speaking to anyone except the authorities. If I said anything, I’d be automatically fired.
I looked at the two men and saw the steely determination on their faces. I reached across and took the Mont Blanc pen Ed was offering. I really had no choice but to sign.
“You have to understand, Zara, we need to protect the reputation of this firm,” Ed said soothingly. “We’ve done better than most in riding out the recent tough economic conditions, but no firm can afford to be rocked by a scandal. George is in charge of damage control and is doing his best to mop this mess up. In the meantime, if you want to keep getting paid, don’t speak to anyone. We will be strictly enforcing the terms of the agreement you just signed.”
Ed moved over to his desk, picked up his phone, and barked, “Janice, Zara is ready to leave.”
From out of nowhere a security guard materialized, and I got shakily to my feet. I was half expecting the bull-necked man to grab me and hurl me out of the office, but he seemed content to hover by my side.
My head was swimming. The deep-pile plum plush carpet that I used to love so much because it screamed luxury now threatened to trip me up. I could barely lift my feet. “Oh god,” I moaned. “This can’t be happening.”
Walking the thirty-meter corridor to reception was the most humiliating thing ever. Even though my eyes were fixed on the floor, I could imagine heads bobbing up from cubicles to stare—just like meerkats on the bloody Discovery Channel!
As we neared Sal’s office, I looked up. I desperately needed to see a friendly face. But Sal wasn’t there. Instead, Clare barged out of the next-door office and almost bowled me over.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said with mock sincerity, “I nearly walked straight into you and your, um,
friend.
”
She looked like the cat who’d eaten the cream—and the family dog too, for that matter. Trying to summon up all the dignity I could muster, I put on my fakest, sweetest smile and said, “No worries.” And then in my most concerned tone, “Oh dear, you’ve smudged foundation all over your shirt collar.”
Looking temporarily confused, Clare opened her mouth as if to say something and then changed her mind and headed for the ladies’ toilet. I kept walking. It was a cheap shot, but it made me feel better, if only for a millisecond.
At last we reached reception. Fortunately the area, which usually hummed with waiting clients and staff, was quiet. My heels clattered on the highly polished marble floor as I made my way to the lift well. As I reached the lift, I allowed myself a parting look. I didn’t know when, or even if, I’d ever be allowed back. Suddenly, I felt nostalgic. Harvey & Rose was like home to me.
Tears once again started to well in my eyes. As the lift doors closed, I let them roll down my cheeks.